


By The Swing Of Her Hips

by Salmon_Pink



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Femslash Friday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:17:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel dances, Raven <i>feels</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Swing Of Her Hips

**Author's Note:**

> Set before _X-Men: Days Of Future Past_. Spoilers for _X-Men: Days Of Future Past_. Written for [Femslash Friday](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/femslash+friday), for [50 Smutlets](http://50_smutlets.livejournal.com/), prompt "music", and for [X-Men First Kink](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/), [prompt](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/11912.html?thread=22739080#t22739080) "Angel/Raven, the last time Raven saw Angel".

One moment Angel’s pacing the room, restless as a caged tiger, the next she’s swinging her hips leisurely, eyes half-lidded and a smile on her lips.

“You gonna dance for me?” Raven asks, a little surprised.

“Yeah,” Angel shrugs, making the movement look graceful, _fluid_ , like part of the music. “Yeah, maybe I am.”

Raven nods slow, grinning playfully. There’s not much in the motel room, but there’s a tinny little radio, and Raven reaches over, cranks the volume up. Leans back on her elbows on the vibrating bed that doesn’t actually vibrate, watching the sway of Angel’s body. Angel’s facing her, and there’s a full-length mirror behind her, smeared with fingerprints, but Raven can still see the curve of Angel’s ass in the dirty reflection, the dimples either side of her spine just above the hemline of her skirt.

The music is soulful, _sultry_ , and the air in the room is already warmer than Raven likes it, but the twist of Angel’s shoulders is making the temperature rise sharply.

Raven’s throat is dry. She’s learned a thing or two about using sex appeal to blindside people, Emma was a thorough teacher, but this is different. This is just Angel dancing, _feeling_ the music. She isn’t _trying_ to be sexy, but she completely is, the way she’s lost in it making Raven feel like she’s intruding on a private moment.

“You miss it?” she asks, voice soft and kind of reverential. “Dancing, I mean.”

“Yes and no,” Angel admits. “Don’t miss the guys who got grabby, the guys who thought a five-dollar-dance meant they owned me.” She crosses her wrists over her head, long lines of her stomach beneath her cropped top shining a little with perspiration. “But the dancing? Being paid to just _move_? The feel of it, people wanting to see me, people _wanting_ me?” Her head rolls backward, voice growing huskier by the second. “Yeah, I miss that a lot.”

Raven nods, sitting up, body heavy like she’s moving through water. She gets that, about having people look at her, about making them feel the way she wants them to feel. It’s not the same as what Angel’s talking about, she’s pretty sure, but she wants to understand so badly.

She wants to be _close_ , because Angel and her, they’ve been team-mates for a while, but things are different now.

Emma’s gone. Riptide’s gone. Azazel hasn’t checked in for two weeks. Raven doesn’t even want to think about where Erik is.

It’s just _them_ , the two of them all that’s left, her and Angel, and Raven wants to feel that connection so much.

She’s _lonely_ , and she feels like she’s drawing in on herself more every day, growing colder, growing into something she doesn’t recognise.

She wonders if Charles would still recognise her mind, or if she’s a whole new person now.

“Come on,” Angel says gently, spine undulating, moving closer. “Dance with me.”

Raven shakes her head. There’s something huge and hard caught in her throat. “No,” she manages tightly with a shake of her head. “I think I wanna just _watch_.”

Angel gives her this look, shrewd and _knowing_ , and maybe a little bit sad. She’s got to be feeling it too, countdown ticking somewhere like a timer on a bomb, pulling them closer to the same fate as the others. They’re trapped, moving from one hole to another, cheap motels and squatting in abandoned buildings.

Raven never went with Shaw, but sometimes Angel talks about the way the man lived, the _luxury_ , champagne for breakfast and afternoons on yachts. Angel never looks wistful, but Raven’s sure she misses it.

The song switches over, but it’s a similar beat, strong and steady, and Angel’s hips don’t falter. She’s closer now, standing between the sprawl of Raven’s knees where her feet dig into the threadbare carpet. The skin of her thighs brushes Raven’s legs, silky smooth.

Raven could leave. She’d be faster without Angel, _safer_. They both know it. But she won’t, not until Angel pushes her out the door. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Angel whispers, fingers caressing Raven’s cheeks, cupping her face, and Raven’s supposed to be better at hiding her feelings, she’s practiced it long enough, but right now she feels too _raw_. 

“I like the way you dance,” Raven says, voice cracking a little, and Angel pulls her in, presses Raven’s face to her stomach and strokes fingers through her blonde hair. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” Angel murmurs, and Raven wants to believe her so bad it _hurts_. Letting Angel draw backwards, until she can crouch down in front of Raven, kiss her soft and sweet. “It’s alright. You don’t need to hide from me.”

Raven breathes deep. The window’s closed, the curtains drawn, but it still makes her feel on edge to shift back to her natural blue form. All that time, learning to appreciate her mutation, to love herself, and now she’s back to being scared of what it means, what it might bring knocking on their door.

But Angel just smiles as Raven’s skin ripples and settles, and says, “That’s better, right?” And it _is_ , like Raven’s been holding her breath all this time, wound too tight. 

She squeezes her thighs around Angel’s bare middle. “Yeah, it’s better.”

Angel gives her smile Raven doesn’t get to see often, huge and earnest. She tugs Raven up, radio still crooning about love and youth, and pulls her towards the mirror. Shuffles them around until Raven’s facing her reflection, Angel plastered against her back, skin so _hot_. Holding Raven’s hips with firm hands, rocking her gently, and they’re not really dancing, just swaying to the rhythm, but it feels good anyway.

“So pretty,” Angel says, and Raven’s learned to accept that, not to question or falter or assume people are lying to her face. “Always liked this colour.”

Raven laughs quietly, reaching up and back, tangling her fingers in Angel’s hair. Tilting her head back for a kiss, and Angel’s tongue slides into her mouth slow, licks her teeth in time to the music. Hands sliding over Raven’s stomach, dipping down to cup her between her thighs, and Raven moans, legs kicking apart for it. Fingers stroking over her labia, spreading her, and Angel breaks the kiss to stare at their reflection with dark eyes.

“Already wet for me,” she purrs, thumb pressing down on Raven’s clit, making her arch and gasp. 

Raven can see herself, see that she’s flushed a darker blue there, glistening with need, and Angel’s fingers push inside her pussy, two of them moving as deep as Angel can get with this angle. Raven trembles, feels herself clenching down on the feeling, trying for _more_.

“What do you want?” Angel asks, voice right against Raven’s ear, nose buried in her hair.

“I want to _taste_ you,” Raven groans, feeling Angel’s fingers curl and stroke. “I want to get you on that crappy broken bed and eat you out until the sun rises.”

Angel’s laughter is so hot against Raven’s neck.

“I want to be tasting you for _days_ ,” Raven sighs, and they both know what she’s really saying. They both know she wants to commit this to memory, she wants to remember Angel’s taste because they could lose each other at any moment, and maybe there’ll be a time in the near future when this is all they have to hold on to.

“We can do that,” Angel grins, hips grinding against Raven’s ass. Fingers pulling out slow, sliding up Raven’s stomach, leaving a damp trail of sex in their wake.

“And I want to keep watching you _dance_ ,” Raven insists, locking eyes with Angel’s reflection, hand settling over Angel’s wrist as she cups Raven’s breast.

“Anytime,” Angel promises, ducking her head to kiss Raven’s shoulder.

The music switches over to another song, melancholy yet sweet, and Angel’s hips sway like a dancer as she leads Raven to the bed.

Maybe they don’t have long, but for now they still have this moment, and it’s got to be enough.


End file.
